


Still Crazy After All These Years

by LilyK



Category: Judge John Deed, The Professionals
Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: Bodie is ordered to fly a very important man to safety and to protect him, with his own life if necessary.





	Still Crazy After All These Years

**Author's Note:**

> Written to the Prompt from "Catch 22": 
> 
> "Ok, let me see if I've got this straight. In order to be grounded, I've got to be crazy. And I must be crazy to keep flying. But if I ask to be grounded, that means I'm not crazy anymore, and I have to keep flying."

"You're my pilot?" The shock came through his voice loud and clear. He didn't even pretend to hide it. 

"Yes, sir. Do you have a problem with that?" 

Justice John Deed looked down his nose at the grey-haired man standing before him. The bloke was old. He was definitely too damned old for a protection op. And he said 'sir' as if it was some sort of dirty word. Bloody CI5. Even after all these years, "they" still screwed up royally. Cowley- No, Cowley was gone. Poor bastard died quietly on a Sunday morning eight years ago, in bed. Alone. Not even shagging some pretty young thing. What a waste of a good exit. If it were up to him, he'd go at ninety-five, shot by a jealous husband after he'd gleefully screwed the prat's thirty-year-old wife. 

But back to reality. Now with his very life on the line, They'd sent him William Andrew Philip Bodie to fly him to safety. Fucking CI5. Amazing, though, that Bodie was still alive after all these years, and even more surprising was that he was still hanging onto CI5 in his old age. Bodie always did have way too much loyalty to that mob. Deed had never had that loyalty. Never did like the bunch. Not one little whit. 

Still, seeing Bodie again gave him pause. He remembered the "good old days". With regret. No, not regret. Not really. More like with not-to-fond nostalgia. After all, Bodie'd been the one to initiate him into fucking men. Until he'd met Bodie, he'd been happy flirting with birds, wooing them, buying them dinner and a drink, then bedding them. He had been happy before Bodie. Hadn't he? Yes, he had, Deed insisted to himself. Sodding Bodie, and bleedin' Cowley, and rotten CI5...

"Problem, grandad?" Bodie growled. 

Still the same old Bodie. Still arrogant. Still thinking he was better than everybody else. Still -- damn him to hell -- handsome. 

Damn him! 

"You're too old," Deed said in his own most haughty tone, pleased with himself that he remembered to play his part. Funny, that. Hadn't been "undercover" for thirty years, and yet he he remembered his training with ease. He had no trouble disguising his voice, and the limp he exhibited as he leaned on a wooden cane was convincing. The wig itched like mad, though, and the false front teeth threatened to pop out. But he endured, he thought with a snicker as he glared through thick glasses. 

"Too old? You arrogant shit! I'll have you know I've been piloting for thirty years! I've never yet-" 

The screech of tyres echoed through the night. Headlamps caught their silhouettes as the car rapidly approached. Deed turned to run, and stumbled. Bodie grabbed his arm. 

"How'd they find us, old man? Take out an ad in the newspaper? Move it! We have company." 

The car sped towards them and shots rang out. Before Deed could react, rough hands yanked at him and he was pushed to the ground. He let out a yelp of pain when Bodie dropped on top of him, mashing him into the hard surface. The report of Bodie's gun rang in Deed's ears as his bodyguard-cum-pilot returned fire. 

"Stay down!" Bodie shouted, shoving at Deed's head when he tried to look about. "Idiot." 

"We need to get out of here!" 

"Oh, good observation from His Highness!" Bodie snapped.

Deed felt his often quick temper rise. This berk was supposed to be his to command, but was acting like he was in charge. "What do you suggest, then?" he snapped in return. "Shoot our way out?" 

Bodie took a moment to give Deed a grin full of white teeth. "Why not? It's fun, isn't it." He changed clips and returned fire once again. "Hang about!" 

Before Deed could say another thing, Bodie leapt up, crouched down, took careful aim, and waited until the car reappeared from behind the small plane. Ignoring the shots pinging the ground around him, Bodie took careful aim and fired. 

The explosion was deafening. Deed's eyeballs felt scorched when the car went up in a white-hot ball of flames. The fingers of fire flew through the air like live things and landed on the plane, catching the paint. Within moments, it was engulfed as well. 

Deed watched wide-eyed until a hand pulled him up. That plane had been his only escape and this moron had just destroyed it. Of all the incompetent, stupid-

"Get the lead out, grandad" Bodie shouted, giving him a hard shove. 

Cane forgotten, Deed raced across the tarmac next to Bodie, who kept a firm grasp on his coat sleeve until they reached a large disused building. He stood, catching his breath, while Bodie pushed open the sliding doors. 

"Come on! You waiting for an engraved invitation?" Bodie said. 

Deed shook off the fingers that tugged at his jacket and hovered in the doorway. Bodie disappeared into the dark interior. Deed heard the sounds of items being flung about and in a minute a torch beam broke the darkness. 

"Here!" Another torch was shoved into his hands. Bodie turned and walked off into the dark interior once again. Deed's gaze followed the beam of Bodie's torch for a moment before he turned on his own torch to study the contents of the derelict building. He froze in his shoes and his mouth fell open. Bloody hell. 

"I am not flying in that!" Deed said. 

The tiny biplane, a Stearman he realised, was old and fragile-looking. Its formerly red paint was peeling and most of the call letters were gone. One tyre was low and the propeller -- was there a piece missing from one of the blades? The torch light flashed and Deed swallowed with relief. No, just a play of the light. At least all the blades were intact. But that was about all that seemed to be in one piece. 

Bodie patted the side of the plane. "She's still got life in her yet. Good old girl," he crooned. "Stay and die, or get your royal arse into the fucking plane!"

Was the crazy maniac actually stroking the plane? He was! He was talking to it like it was some treasured pet, touching this and that, crawling under its belly. Deed groaned. He was in Hell, and Bodie was his own personal demon. Good God, how did he end up here? Even as the thought crossed his mind, Deed knew exactly what he'd done to get here. With an assassin on his tail. Came with the job, he reckoned. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have sent Joseph Gianetto's only son up the river for the rest of his natural life. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have gone public when he'd discovered the five hundred thousand pounds that Gianetto had deposited into an offshore bank account in Deed's name as a bribe to throw the case. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea that he'd told Gianetto, to his face, to fuck off. Still, he'd done the right thing. And he'd enjoyed the look of shock on Gianetto's pasty, fat face when his son was sent off to prison. 

He was a moron at times. 

Deed shook his head over his own idiocy, yet he could do nothing else but be one hundred percent honest when when sitting on the bench. Rudy Gianetto was a thug and a murderer. The man had deserved the harshest sentence possible. Deed had enjoyed ruling on that case, and even this mess didn't damped his pride in his decision.

As Deed warily climbed into the Stearman's front seat, he literally cringed. Who had abused such a wonderful piece of machinery so abysmally? Bodie, obviously. The man never did have a wit of sense about him. To treat a classic like this was criminal. When he returned to the bench, he'd see what he could do about having the man charged with cruelty to a piece of Britain's history. 

Deed almost laughed aloud at that thought, and the idea of Bodie in stir lightened his dark mood. 

"Ready?" Bodie said, casting Deed a devilish grin while he checked -- whatever needed checking, obviously. 

"Not hardly," Deed replied. "You should be grounded. You're a danger. A bloody menace." 

"Me?" Bodie said affably, hand on his chest. "Grounded? Not on your life! Been flying for almost forty years. I'm the best, mate. Besides, every good pilot should be grounded. Takes a nutter to fly, you know. None one of us have a wit of sense." 

"What are you on about now?" Deed asked, patience long gone. "You are stark raving barmy. You can't fly this plane! And you are a definitely a nutter!" 

Bodie grinned. "Let me see if I've got this straight. In order to be grounded, I've got to be crazy and I must be crazy to keep flying. But if I ask to be grounded, that means I'm not crazy anymore and I have to keep flying." 

"Now what are you raving about?" Deed threw up his hands. "Never mind! Christ, I'm in the company of a madman. How can you possibly still be with CI5? You're a disgrace to the uniform." 

"Don't wear a uniform. And I'm not a copper. Besides, grandad, don't you read the classics?" 

"I am not having this conversation," Deed muttered and then he glared at his companion. "And will you cease to address me as that?" he demanded. 

"What do you wish me to address you as, Your Highness?" Bodie asked, his grin never dimming. 

"Arse." 

"Berk." 

"Prat." 

"Prick."

Still, Bodie's smile never dimmed. Deed shook his head in exasperation and sighed. "Call me Mortimer," he ordered from between clenched teeth. 

"Mortimer?" Bodie chortled. "Suits you. All right, Your Royal Morty-ness!" 

Then Bodie had the audacity to actually bow in his direction. Deed almost barked out something crude and rude, something quite called for, but knowing Bodie as he did, the git would only grin and respond with some equally off-colour comment. So for now, Deed could do nothing but express irritation in his tone of voice as he asked, "How shall I address you?" 

"You may address me as Sir Bodie," came the pompous reply, complete with the royal wave. 

"Ah," Deed said with a sigh. Some things -- and people -- never changed. But had he ever wanted Bodie to change? "Now's not the time," he muttered. 

"Eh?" 

"Nothing. Carry on." 

"Ta." Bodie touched his forelock mockingly. 

Deed merely rolled his eyes. 

"Contact!" Bodie shouted, waving a metal object in the air. Deed only glared as Bodie put the object into the nose of the plane behind the propeller and cranked. Nothing happened. Deed almost laughed. Best not tempt fate, he decided, keeping a wary eye on his companion. The idiot kept turning the crank faster and faster. The entire plane shook on its bad tyres. Deed could hear Bodie's rate of breathing escalate as he kept up his efforts until he yanked the crank out of the plane and pulled -- something Deed couldn't see. The engine coughed as the blades started to spin, the motor caught, then roared to life. Bodie gleefully rubbed his hands together and trotted around the wing to climb into the pilot's seat. 

Deed spared Bodie a glance over his shoulder. Bodie cast him an evil grin as he settled into his seat and added goggles to his attire. Then he shouted, "Hang on!" 

Deed dug his fingers onto the rim of the open cockpit. Something fluttered against his face and he reached out. "Shit!" 

"What?" Bodie called.

"Is this duct tape?" Deed shouted, holding a piece of once-shiny silver tape in his fingers. 

Bodie grin never dimmed. "Holds the world together, mate!" 

"Oh, my God!" 

Then finally, they were moving forward, out of the building. The seat under Deed's buttocks shuddered as if the entire plane protested its awakening. Another piece of the old tape came loose and slapped Deed in the face. He pulled it from his fake beard and tossed it aside. The plane turned to the right and Bodie accelerated down the dark runway. The engine roared; the entire fuselage shook, rattling Deed's teeth. For a minute, he was sure he would die then and there. Squeezing his eyes shut, he bit his lower lip, certain they'd never leave the tarmac. Rather, he envisioned the plane coming apart, piece by ragged piece, and his body with it. Finally the small plane gave a great shudder and Deed felt the wheels leave Mother Earth. 

He (almost) screamed. 

Deed clamped a hand over his mouth to forestall the sound that threatened to erupt while his other hand held onto the plane with a steel grip. He remembered how much he hated flying. 

\------------------------------

"What's wrong now?" Deed called out as the ground rushed up to meet them. 

"It's called landing the plane!" Bodie shouted over Deed's shoulder. 

"But we haven't gone very far!" 

"Far enough. Unless you'd rather crash from lack of fuel!"

"No, landing is fine," Deed admitted. 

Bodie tossed him a grin. "Hold onto your pants, grandad! It's going to be a bumpy night!" 

"Oh, Christ," Deed muttered. "Now he's quoting Ava Gardner." 

"Bette Davis, moron!" 

"I'm surprised you watch Bette Davis!" 

"Why's that?" 

"She's not stacked!" 

Bodie laughed aloud. They landed quite nicely in spite of the grassy runway and the few errant sheep grazing alongside. Bodie cut the engine and clambered down. It was suddenly quiet and Deed sat very still, thanking all that was holy for sparing his life -- so far. 

"You can get down now, Morty-sir," Bodie said with a grin, canting his head to look up at Deed. 

Deed slowly released his iron grip on the edges of the cockpit and flexed his fingers. After a cleansing breathe, he rose and put a leg over the side. Bodie reached up to help but Deed stilled his helpful hands with a deadly glare. 

"I do not need your help." 

"Suit yourself, old man." 

Safely on the ground, Deed put his put his hands on his hips. "You are the most insufferable man I've ever met." 

"And you've lost your accent and your limp. Not to mention your wig. And what's this?" 

Before Deed could react, Bodie'd reached out and yanked the false beard from his face. 

"Ow! Damn you. That was glued on!" Deed's hand cupped his tingling skin. He spat out the false front teeth and spared a quick look at his companion. 

Bodie stood before him, his face a blank slate. His eyes, however, were alive and as beautiful as Deed remembered. When Bodie was angry, the blue turned stormy, and right now he was definitely in full hurricane mode. Deed held his tongue and waited to see what Bodie would do or say now that he knew the truth. Now that he knew who he was risking his life for. 

"Bloody hell," Bodie finally said so softly that Deed had to strain to hear him. "As I live and breath. It's you. You arrogant, worthless, lying piece of shit." Then he landed a punch to the jaw that Deed hadn't seen coming. 

Not that he didn't deserve it, mind. 

Deed lay sprawled on the ground, head ringing. From his vantage point he watched as his former partner, his former friend -- his former lover -- stormed off into the woods. With a groan, he laid his head back and covered his face with his hands. 

"Here's another fine mess you've got yourself into, Deed," he said. Bodie and Deed, another classic comic pairing, all right. 

After a momentary wallow in self-pity over the entire debacle, Deed rolled to his hands and knees, and rose. Might as well find Bodie and see if they could talk. Not that he expected anything to come of it, but Bodie deserved an explanation, if not an apology. 

After all, it was Deed who'd screwed everything up all those years ago. 

\----------------------------------

"Bodie!" 

"Fuck off!" 

Deed sighed as Bodie kept walking down the overgrown track. Branches slapped at Deed's face and he pushed them aside. "Bodie, would it help if I said I'm sorry?" 

"No!" 

"All right, then," Deed called out then muttered, "Then I won't bother." Irritation now rising, Deed ground to a halt and shouted, "Jeezus, Bodie, you've always been an arrogant bastard! Now you're an arsehole as well!" 

"Oh, yeah?" The voice floated through the air. Bodie was nowhere to be seen. 

Deed heard the undergrowth rustle, and in the next moment, Bodie was stalking towards him, face full of anger. 

"You've always been impossible, Doyle! You're arrogant and spiteful and you have a temper that would try a saint!" 

"I know," Deed said. 

"What?" 

Deed smiled. It wasn't often that he'd seen Bodie at a loss for words. The man's face was a picture of confusion. "I said, I know. I'm spiteful and arrogant and have a pissy temper." 

"Oh. Yeah, well, don't I know it!" 

"I never meant to hurt you."

Bodie crossed his arms. "Who said I was hurt?" he growled, looking directly over Deed's shoulder. "I'm fine. Just dandy. Never better." 

"Bodie..." 

"Serves you right. Lying all those years. Letting me think you were Doyle, my friend, my mate. My- No matter. It was over years ago. Decades, in fact." 

Deed stepped closer. "I haven't forgotten what I did. I took an oath, Bodie. You know that. Nobody knew I was undercover for those five years. No one except two people. And you know why. Britain's very foundation was shaking, and I had to do it. I had to. It was never about you and me." 

Bodie sighed, kicking at the dirt with the toe of his boot. "I never- I'm not sure- Christ, Doyle, it's been too long to hold a grudge. You did what you had to. You did your job. Same as the rest of us." 

"I didn't plan on you. I didn't plan on -- us." 

Bodie raised his head, and for a long moment, they looked into each other's eyes. "I know. But it still hurt. I reckoned-" Bodie shrugged before he glanced around. "We need to hide the plane."

"Do you think we were followed?" 

"No, but no sense taking chances. Standard procedure, mate. There's a place about a mile in. It's stocked up and ready for use. Nobody but me and Ashford knows we're here. We'll hole up there until things blow over." 

"Ashford's a good friend. I recommended him after Cowley stepped down. He does a good job running your lot." 

"He's all right." 

Deed held out his hand. "Truce?" 

Bodie stared at Deed's hand for at least a minute before he gave a curt nod and shook. "Truce." 

\-------------------------------

"Now that was a good meal," Bodie said approvingly, tossing his paper napkin onto the table. He picked up his cup and drained the coffee. Then he smacked his lips. 

"You're still a pig, Bodie," Deed observed, unable to hide a grin. 

"Hey," Bodie answered, pointing a finger. "Be careful, grandad. You've put on a few stone over the years, mate. That belly isn't quite as flat as I remember. And what the fuck happened to your hair?"

"It's gone grey." 

"You're telling me! No, I mean where's that golly hair you sported for years. Liked that, if you must know." 

Deed raised an eyebrow. "I didn't ask if you approved or not. I'll have you know-" 

"Christ, Doyle, are you always this pompous? It's tiring, not to mention bloody annoying." 

"I'm a Justice in Her Majesty's court, Bodie. I do not carouse with the masses." 

Bodie stared at Deed before he burst out laughing. "Good God, you're a twat. And here I thought you were putting me on. All those bleedin' balls and parties. Your picture in the society paper. Never thought I'd live to see the day. Doyle, mate-" 

"The name is Judge Deed." 

"Oh, excuse me, Your Highness," Bodie said, rising and bowing elegantly. "I mean no disrespect, sire, but watching you prance about in the courtroom was enough entertainment to keep me amused for many years." 

Deed sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "You've been in my court?" He was surprised to see Bodie actually blush. 

"Well, no! Once, maybe. I didn't do it to see you! Cowley made me go; I was working." Bodie lifted his chin. "I am a civil servant. Hid in the back, behind a few other fellas. Didn't stay long." 

Deed started to laugh. "We are a pair, aren't we?" 

"Once, maybe." Bodie looked away before his gaze found Deed's, and the lips quirked up. "We were quite a pair. At least, I thought so."

When Bodie turned away quickly and began clearing the table, Deed suddenly realised that Bodie had almost admitted how important they'd been to each other. Did he still care? It had been a long time ago, and Deed had fucked it all up. Not on purpose, but back then, Bodie was too hurt to listen. Maybe now? 

"Bodie? Listen. I'm sorry how everything worked out -- back then. I meant to get in touch after everything settled, but one thing led to another..." 

"I know. Time flies when you're having fun, eh? Don't let it worry that old head of yours, Doyle- Deed. Things work out the way they're supposed to." Bodie dumped the remnants of dinner into the bin. "Go on. Get some rest. Day's gone now, with the time we spent hiding the plane and hiking your sorry arse through the woods. And now I have the washing up. Can't expect Your Royalness to get his hands dirty now, can I?" 

"Bodie-" 

"Drop it for now. I know how you talk things to death. Just for a bit, eh? My head can't take it right now. Get to sleep. I'll keep the first watch." Bodie graced Deed with a half-hearted smile and cocked his head. "Take the bed." 

Deed paused to examine Bodie. He was still handsome. Still the bloke that made his heart pound. Still -- Bodie. The one and only. God, how he'd missed his mate. He smiled. "All right. Good night, then." 

"Don't let the bed bugs bite." 

Deed gave Bodie a last look before he stepped away. His instincts told him that Bodie needed time to think, and they were both tired. Things were bound to look better with the dawn of a new day. 

\------------------------------------

Deed was startled awake when a large hand clamped over his mouth. 

"Shhh. We've got company." 

Bodie removed his hand when Deed nodded. "Who?" 

"Who the fuck do you think?" 

"How?" 

"How the hell should I know? I didn't tell anybody, now, did I? Christ, you'd think you had a bug shot up your arse for how fast they found us out. Now shut it and move!" Bodie threw his coat at him and headed toward the back exit. He paused and met Deed's gaze in the faded moonlight. "Stay low and quiet, and keep close to me. Remember how to use one of these?" he added, pushing a gun into Deed's hand. "And for God's sake, don't shoot your foot off!"

Deed considered refusing the weapon, but after a second, he nodded and slipped the gun into his pocket. When Bodie opened the back door and they slipped through, Deed was suddenly glad Bodie had advised him to sleep with his clothes on. He would have hated cavorting through the woods in his underwear. Besides, Bodie had made the suggestion so flippantly that the way he said it gave Deed pause. The tone clearly conveyed Bodie's concern about his safety, so Deed did what he'd done many times years ago. He trusted Bodie. He'd even kept his shoes on, for chrissake! 

As they slipped out the back door of the cabin and, hunkering down, scuttled across the unprotected expanse of field towards the wood, Deed pulled his heavy coat around him and prayed Bodie was as good as he remembered. And as good as Bodie always said he was. That thought made him smile, but only for a moment. 

Deed heard a strange whooshing sound followed by the noise of breaking glass, but before his brain could even register what was going on, an explosion rocked the night. He and Bodie were knocked to the ground from the aftershock. 

"What the hell?" Deed ground out. 

"Barbecue?" Bodie responded, making Deed groan softly. "Move it," he whispered. "And stay low!" 

Deed didn't need to be told twice. They were exposed in the light cast by the burning cabin and Deed used his fingers to steady himself as he moved, crab-like, towards the tree line. It seemed to take forever before he made it to cover, Bodie close behind him. As he entered the brush, shouts rang out and guns sang. Deed actually felt one of the bullets whisk by his ear and he heard it hit a tree not three feet away. 

Bodie turned and, using a tree for cover, laid down a wide pattern of shots. 

"Listen to me, grandad. We don't have a prayer of outrunning them. They're young and fit-" Bodie paused to unleash another round of gunfire. "So run as fast as you can and be quiet about it! We need to find somewhere else to hole up. Don't wait for me! Find a ditch or a cave and crawl into it and stay quiet!" Bodie changed clips quickly. 

"We shouldn't split up!" Deed said roughly. 

"I'll find you. Know me way around the forest, old man." 

"Bodie-" 

"Move it now!" 

Deed moved it. 

\-------------------------------------

Deed slowly emerged from his hiding place into the bright mid-morning sun. Another glance at his watch told him it'd been nearly seven hours since he and Bodie had separated on their night-time escape from his assassins. He'd found a bolt hole, sort of a cave, more like a hollow in the side of a hill where he'd parked himself, covered the entry with brush, and waited. None too patiently at first, but apparently he'd fallen asleep. He'd woken with a start and firmly berated himself for his slackness. 

Dirty, hungry and more than a bit frightened for Bodie, Deed cautiously crawled out of his hidey-hole after listening carefully for more than fifteen minutes for any tell-tale sounds of killers or of Bodie. He'd heard nothing but the faint noises of small woodland creatures hunting and being hunted, and birds as they fluttered from bush to tree. 

Deed brushed the leaves and dirt from his coat as he stood, then let his hearing extend as far as possible. He heard the sound of running water and headed in its direction, taking careful steps so as not to set his feet on any twigs that would snap under his foot and echo in the quiet of the forest. It wasn't long before he came upon the brook. With a satisfied grunt, he hunkered down and scooped up several handfuls of water, drinking deeply. Then he scrubbed at his face and ran his wet hands through his hair. 

Somewhat refreshed, Deed rose and shed his heavy jacket. It was dirty and damp, and he briefly considered leaving it behind before he reckoned that would be a daft thing to do. Not only could somebody stumble on it, but if he spent another night or two in the wilds, it would come in handy as a blanket. Right now, it might seem unappealing, but in the cold of the night, it would be a welcome source of warmth. Good wool, that. No sense wasting it. 

His belly rumbled. "Settle down. Nothing to eat, mate," he said, patting his stomach. "Besides, I've got more important things to worry about." Deed rose and rubbed his eyes. Where was Bodie? He remembered the gunfire, and suddenly, his blood ran cold. Why hadn't he thought about that? Had Bodie been hit? Was he lying in the woods bleeding, or worse -- dead? 

"Bodie is not dead," Deed told himself firmly. 

Still, fear clenched at his gut. If it were his fault Bodie'd been killed, he'd never forgive himself. With a firm internal shake, Deed berated himself. Stop thinking that way and find him! He's still alive. I know he's still alive. Think! You were in CI5 for five years. You've had the training. Stop whining and find Bodie! 

With his resolve firmly in hand, Deed got his bearings and made his way back towards the cabin. He set up a pattern in his head and searched as he went, walking quietly and stopping often to observe the ground and surrounding vegetation for any signs of Bodie. The air grew warmer as he walked, and he took off his suit jacket, undid the top button of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. 

Since he was being cautious, it took Deed a long time to cover what seemed like very little ground, and he'd just picked through a thick stand of small evergreens when he saw it. Blood. Reaching down, he touched the red splotches. Fresh enough to be sticky. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, biting his lower lip. He rose and searched, finding another drip, then another. Enough to lay a trail... 

"Shit," Deed said softly as he scanned ahead. In plain view, in the middle of a clearing, lay Bodie. Momentarily forgetting his need for vigilance, he raced to his friend's side and fell to his knees. 

"Bodie. Don't be dead. Please..." Bodie lay sprawled in the dirt. His eyes were closed and his face was pale. There was blood mixed with dirt on his upper left thigh and his trousers were discoloured from where the wound had bled. Deed reached out with a shaky hand and placed his fingers on Bodie's neck. The pulse thrummed under his fingers, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Bodie, mate." Deed touched Bodie's head, stroking the leaf- and dirt-coated hair. 

Before he had a chance to take another breath, a hand clamped around his throat and squeezed. 

"Bodie!" Deed rasped, clamping his hands around Bodie's wrist. "Stop!" 

Bodie's eyes flew open. "Doyle?" 

"Yes, you stupid bastard. Now let me go!" 

"You're alive." 

"Don't sound so happy about it." 

"I feel like death warmed over and you want me to be all smiles? Why am I not surprised. Took a bullet for you and still you expect me to kiss your arse." 

"You used to enjoy it at one time." 

Bodie grimaced. "Help me up. We need to get out of here." 

"You're in no shape to travel. That leg looks rough." 

"What a marvellous observation, Your Royalness. Now help me up!" 

Deed sighed theatrically. "And here I was almost grateful you were alive. Didn't take me long to re-evaluate that position." He rose to his feet, knees stiff, and helped Bodie up. "Come on then." Deed put his arm around Bodie while Bodie draped an arm across Deed's shoulders. "Lean on me." 

Bodie nodded. Sweat beaded on his forehead and Deed saw him swallow and close his eyes. 

"Feeling sick?" Deed asked. 

"I'm all right." 

"Which way do you think?" 

"I'm... not sure. Might find another hut or maybe a cottage. Might not." 

"You're full of positive thinking." 

"Don't feel very well." 

"No. I would never have guessed that. Come on. I know where there's water." 

"Good. I'm thirsty." 

"Can you make it?" 

"Do I have a choice?" 

"You could shoot yourself in the head. End it all here and now." 

"Oh, right. You'd love that now, wouldn't you?" 

Deed nodded. "I'd love it. You've always been a prick, Bodie." He started moving, and kept up his banter to keep Bodie's attention off his wound. "And you need to lose at least two stone. You're getting fat." 

"Am not! I'm a picture of masculine beauty." 

"Right. I'd forgot. Cheers to you for reminding me. You are, of course, tall, dark and beautiful." 

"Don't forget engagingly modest." 

"You remember?" Deed asked. 

"Could ask you the same thing," Bodie answered. 

"I remember a lot of things." 

"And I forgot a lot of things." 

"Bodie, I'm sorry." 

"I'm -- not feeling very well." 

"Come on, mate. Just a bit farther. Don't pass out on me now. Bodie! Bloody hell. Don't do this to me." 

Deed once again was on his knees next to his friend. "Jeezus, Bodie... Now what?" He glanced around, spying a good hiding place to stash the now unconscious Bodie while he went for water. He levered the limp form up and clamped his hands under Bodie's arms and dragged. He used his heavy coat as a blanket and rolled his dress jacket into a pillow, placing it under Bodie's head. 

"Bodie?" He patted the sweaty face. "I'll be right back." 

He made it to the creek in just a few minutes and soaked his handkerchief in the cool water. Rising, Deed stood looking down at the inadequate piece of material, then he quickly removed his dress shirt and dunked it into the creek, telling himself it was a good thing he'd worn a vest under his shirt. Cupping both items in his hands, he raced back to Bodie's side, still being cautious about making too much noise. 

"Bodie, you've got to wake up," Deed pleaded. Inspecting his friend, he moved to Bodie's injured leg and, with his Swiss army knife, slit a bigger hole around the entry wound and touched the skin. It felt hot under his fingers, and after wiping away the crusted blood and dirt with the cuff of the wet shirt, it started to seep fresh blood, but only slowly. Gently reaching to the back of Bodie's thigh, he felt the exit wound as well. "No bullet in your leg, at least." 

Deed took the shirt and folded it into a long strip, and wound it around Bodie's thigh, tying the cuffs together. He checked the snugness to be sure it didn't impede circulation. Pleased with his efforts, he took the handkerchief and squeezed a few drops of liquid on Bodie's lips before wiping down his face. 

"Bodie, for chrissake, wake up. All right. All right. You've always been a hard-headed bastard. Now what? Find shelter. Find somebody to go for help. Go for help yourself." Deed started covering Bodie with brush. "Any and/or all of the above. Shelter first. You're going barmy, talking to yourself." 

Task finished, Deed walked out of their hiding place and studied it. Nothing could be seen, and as long as Bodie didn't wake and stumble blindly out of the bushes, he'd be safe. With a final backward glance, Deed set off. 

Back at the small brook, Deed looked left, then right. He had to find shelter. Something, anything. All he could do was hope he found a deserted hut or cottage, or a farm building somewhere. But up stream or down stream? 

"Pick one!" Deed muttered before he let out a sigh. He was hungry and dirty and scared, yet as he looked at his hands and saw the dried blood, he found new strength. Bodie needed him. He turned left and followed the water. "One hour," he said, marking the time on his watch. "If I don't find a good spot in an hour, I'll come back, check on Bodie, and search the other direction." Plan made, he hurried on. 

\------------------------------

"Time to go, Bodie. Don't suppose you'd consider waking up and walking, eh? No? Okay, then." Deed took in a deep breath, released it slowly before he squatted down and took a firm hold of Bodie's arms. He gritted his teeth and pulled. Knowing he didn't want to drop his friend or make his wound start to bleed again, Deed managed to get Bodie up and draped over his shoulder. He staggered a step or two before he found his footing. Then he wrapped an arm around Bodie's legs and started walking. Thankfully, he'd found what looked like an abandoned gamekeeper's hut about about two miles away, but it was the longest two miles he'd ever walked. 

Sweating profusely, Deed plodded on, not daring to stop and rest. If he put Bodie down now, he'd never be able to lift him again. Deed's back and legs screamed in protest at the dead weight he carried, and it was only through sheer determination (Bodie'd would have called it pigheadedness) that he made it to the run-down cottage. 

Deed had already searched their shelter, shook out a few dirty blankets from a filthy bed, scared out a few field mice, then left the door ajar. He was finally able to lay his burden down on the bed and he stood over Bodie, breathing heavily with his hand pressed to his chest. 

"Have a heart attack now, old man, and you'll both die out here," Deed complained. "Take a minute, then get a move on." 

Deed almost smiled at his own lunacy. Giving orders to yourself now, he mused. Ah, well... At least I listen to meself. Most of the time. He chuckled, then took an old battered bucket from the floor and went to fill it with water. 

\------------------------------------

"Bodie? Thank God." Deed looked into the blue eyes that seemed to have trouble focusing. "That's it. Open up those eyes, mate. Bodie?" 

Bodie groaned. "Doyle?" 

"Right here, Sleeping Beauty. About time. It's been hours!" Deed put a hand behind Bodie's head. "Drink." 

Water dribbled everywhere as Bodie greedily drank the cool liquid. When Deed gently set his head back, he let out a sigh. "Cheers." Then he tried to move. 

"Lie still, you bloody moron! You've a hole clear through your leg big enough to stick a fist in." 

"Feels more like a sodding lorry drove through it. Where are we?" Bodie asked, looking around. 

"Some disused cottage. I didn't see anybody else about." 

"Where are our friends?" 

"Don't know. It's been quiet." 

"Don't light a fire." 

Deed guffawed. "I couldn't light a fire if I wanted to. No matches. Furthermore, I do not smoke." 

"Only the masses take up that disgusting habit, eh? Not for the likes of you." 

Deed blinked before he smiled. "I suppose I did sound a bit overbearing just now." 

Their eyes met. "Just now?" Bodie asked. 

Smile fading quickly, Deed tipped his chin. "Are you insinuating that I always sound -- overbearing?" 

"Yes." 

"Thanks for that." 

"It's true." 

Deed smiled again before he settled down on the floor beside the cot. "Bodie, can we talk? I mean really talk?" 

Bodie's eyes grew wary. "About what?" 

"You. Me. Us." 

"There is no 'us', Deed." Bodie turned his face away. 

"There was, once." 

"Wasn't good enough for you, was it?" 

"No! That wasn't it. You know that. I had a bloody job to do! I couldn't chuck it all for you. You know why." 

Bodie's eyes slipped shut. "Yeah, I know. Still -- hurt, though. Back then."

"And now?" 

"I'm your bodyguard." 

"Is that all?" 

Turning his head, Bodie opened his eyes and asked quietly, "Do you deserve anything else?"

"No, I suppose not," Deed admitted. "That doesn't mean I don't have regrets."

"My only regret right now is that I'm going to pack it in out in the wilds of Suffolk." 

"You're not going to die! I won't let you!"

"Still think you're God, eh?" Bodie grimaced. "I feel bloody awful." 

"I'm going for help." 

"No!" Bodie swallowed. "No, not safe. They'll find you. Found you every single time so far. Funny, that. How'd they find you?" Bodie's eyes closed and for a moment, Deed thought he'd fallen asleep or gone unconscious, but after a few minutes, he opened his eyes and demanded, "Empty your pockets." 

"Why?" 

"Christ, Doyle, for once, just do as your told- God, my bleedin' leg hurts!" 

"Stay still. I'll empty my pockets, but I'm not bugged. That's what you're thinking, isn't it? Maybe it's you. No, couldn't be. Nobody knew you were meeting me. Only Ashford, and he's reliable. Known him for years." Deed took out his wallet and handed it to Bodie. "Only my ID and a few quid. No credit cards. Nothing. Not even a picture of my daughter." 

"What else?" 

"My Swiss army knife."

Bodie examined it closely. "Looks new." 

"It is. A birthday present a fortnight ago." 

"From...?" 

"You are a suspicious one, aren't you?" 

"Who's it from?" Bodie insisted. 

"Actually, it was given to me by your boss, Ashford." 

"Does he have a reason to want you dead?" Bodie asked. 

"Don't you trust him?" 

"Fuck, no. He's worse than Cowley ever was. He'd toss every one of us to the wolves if it suited him. Still, he's a good man for the job. Doesn't believe in wasting resources, and agents are resources, so he does seem to fancy keeping us alive. Most of the time, that is. Anything else?"

"No." 

"Been to the physician's lately?" 

"Why?" Deed asked suspiciously, not liking the smirk on Bodie's face. 

"These days,who knows where they'd put a tracking device. Could be in that empty space between your ears." 

"Ha, bloody-ha. You're still quite the comedian, Bodie." 

Bodie grinned. "I strive for perfection in all things." 

"You've managed in one thing. Daftness. Besides, there is no reason to suspect Ashford. He wouldn't want me dead." Deed stretched out his arms. "I've nothing else on me." His eyes caught sight of his wristwatch and his words dried up. 

"What?" Bodie asked. 

"This," Deed said, unbuckling the strap. "Christ, this. It's from my court bodyguard, Jones. Robert Jones." Their gazes met. "But it can't be! He's been fully vetted!" 

"Barry Martin was fully vetted," Bodie offered quietly. 

Deed sat looking down at the expensive timepiece. He remembered Robert's pleasure when he'd given Deed the gift. At first, Deed had thought to refuse it because of the item's cost, but Robert had seemed so happy about presenting it, so he'd accepted with thanks. He'd never suspected a thing. And he, a judge. Great 'judge' of character he turned out to be. 

"Don't blame yourself, Ray," Bodie said. 

The sound of the long-forgotten name brought Deed's head up sharply. "Bodie, I'm not Ray any longer. It was my cover, and you know that." 

"Ray was the bloke I loved -- once." Bodie admitted. 

Deed's eyes widened. "Loved?" 

"Don't let it go to your head, mate. You've a big one enough already. Was a long time ago." Bodie's eyes slipped shut. 

"Bodie, I am sorry." 

"Whatever..." 

Deed stared at Bodie's pale face for a long time before he rose and put the watch on the dirty wood floor. He felt a great deal of satisfaction as he ground his heel into it and revelled in the sound of it crushing under his boot. 

\-------------------------------

"Bodie!" Deed shook Bodie's arm. "Wake up." 

Slowly, Bodie woke and blinked dazedly. "Doyle?" 

"It's dark outside. I'm going for help. Be safer than in daylight, and I can see by the lights which houses have somebody at home. We need a phone." 

"No, there's a full moon. If they're still hunting for us, you'll be spotted. It's too dangerous." 

"And with that tracking device, it's only a matter of time before we're found." Deed mused. 

"Let's hope I still have it, mate," Bodie quipped with a grin. 

"Still have it? What, pray tell? Some strange venereal disease? The ability to send women running away in abject terror? The worst case of bloated head in the entire country? What? Christ, Bodie, but you're still a moron!" 

Bodie's smile never dimmed. "Love you too, Doyle." 

Deed's mouth fell open and he glared at Bodie before he rose and shook his head. "Nevertheless, I'm going to help." 

"Go on, then. But if you'd be a bit patient, I'm sure the cavalry will arrive." 

"How can you that know?" Deed shouted, patience gone. "I'm tired and hungry, and you're bleeding to death before my eyes!" 

Bodie smiled, shook his head and closed his eyes. "Have a little faith, Your Highness." 

"Like you had in me, Bodie. Back then?" Deed said in a whisper. "I had faith, mate. It was you who couldn't give me a chance." 

Without opening his eyes, Bodie said, "I know. My fault. Should have waited-" Bodie's eyes flew open. 

"What is it? Those blokes with the big guns?" 

"No, you prat. Shut up and listen." 

Deed went to the door and opened it a crack. He did as bid, and from far away, he heard the thub-thub-thub of something... A chopper! 

"Gianetto's hired a helicopter?" 

The sound of Bodie's tired chuckle reached Deed's ears. "No, Goldilocks. It's the Seventh Cavalry come to rescue us." 

Deed turned toward Bodie. "How could you know?" 

Bodie raised himself to his elbow and grinned. "You don't remember? Bugging people was a speciality of mind back in the day. Now it's child's play. Have a GPS in me boot. Ashford insists on it." 

"Why didn't you say?" 

"Didn't know when they'd arrive, now, did I? Didn't want you all whinging about your bloody bath and bed and wanting your tea." 

"Bodie, I swear..." Deed stalked over to Bodie and glared down at him. "One of these days I'll kill you myself!" Then he reached out, took Bodie's face in his hands and planted a wet, sloppy kiss directly on his astonished lips. It took Bodie only a few seconds to respond and Deed wasn't surprised that the randy toad even returned the kiss in spite of his condition. Mindful of that, Deed pulled away after a few seconds. "Now that's one thing that I remember enjoying immensely. You always were a good kisser." 

"Was that my only talent?" Bodie asked, raising an eyebrow and licking his lips suggestively. 

"Dirty-minded sod," Deed said with an exasperated chuckle. 

\------------------------------ 

"Come in." Deed stepped back, allowing Bodie to enter. He accepted the bottle of fine malt with a nod. "Shall I pour?" 

"Oh, please do," Bodie responded poshly. "In a crystal tumbler. Ta ever so much." 

Deed laughed. "Christ, it's good to see you up and about! Go on through." 

Bodie glance around as he shrugged out of his jacket. "Nice, this. Very posh. Judge's salary suits you -- John." 

"It's a living." 

"A good one at that," Bodie said, accepting the glass with a quick smile. "Thanks for the plant you sent while I was in hospital. It's still alive. Had time to tend it now." 

"I meant to visit, but..." Deed shrugged as he sat across from Bodie and sipped his drink. "Didn't know if I'd be welcome." Another sip and he added, "I'm sorry they retired you out." 

Bodie casually shrugged. "It was time. They offered me office work, but that's not for me, so I took my pension and ran. In fact, I should thank you. I've liked these past months at home. Had time to do all the things I promised myself I'd do." 

"Such as...?" 

"Started writing," Bodie said proudly. "Did a book full of poems." 

Deed laughed. "You always were spouting off the classics." 

Bodie cast Deed a wide-tooth grin. "There was a young fellow names Lancelot - Whom his neighbours all looked on askance a lot. - Whenever he'd pass - A presentable lass - The front of his pants would advance a lot." 

"You did not write that!" 

"Why not?" 

"Because," Deed said with a laugh, "I've heard that one before. It's been around a long time, mate." 

"Oh, well. I've written some others that sprang directly from my fertile mind. Show you some time, if you like." 

"I'd like that." Deed grimaced. "Possibly." 

Bodie lifted his glass in salute before each man fell silent and sipped his drink. 

Deed finally asked, "Is it possible that we could -- start over? I know there's a lot of water under the bridge, and all that, but what would you do if I asked you to dinner?" 

Bodie's gaze caught Deed's. He smiled and leaned forward. "I'd say yes." 

"Good. Then say -- tonight? Now? We could pop out to the local for a bite to eat and a lager." 

"You have a local?" 

Deed lifted his chin. "Of course I have a local. Still throw a dart or two when I can. What do you say?"

"I say -- we could stay in. You could toss something together from the freezer, and we could drink the rest of that bottle." 

Deed's laugh rang out. "Trust me when I say that if we drank that entire bottle, neither one of us would be good for much of anything. The old days are long gone, mate. Old age and all that." 

Bodie moved to the edge of his seat. "The old days might be long gone, but there's nothing wrong with the new ones. So what do you say to that?" 

Deed rose and held out his hand. Bodie took it and grinned up at him. "I'd say let's celebrate the good old days and the good new ones properly." 

Putting down his glass, Bodie rose and reached out for Deed. He slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close. "And I'd say time is going to keep ticking away, and if we don't grab what we can, it's going to be gone before we know it. So I'm all for celebrating right here and now." Bodie smiled. "Got a king-sized bed in your boudoir, sir?" 

Deed laughed. "Bodie, I have missed you. I should warn you, though. I'm not very reliable. My track record isn't very good. I won't lie to you. I can't promise you that I won't still sow those wild oats about, but I do swear that it doesn't mean I don't care for you."

"I'm not asking for your hand in marriage, Johnny-boy. Besides, if this works out, at our ages, I'm willing to be flexible if you remember whose bed you sleep in at night. A bit of fun outside won't bother me, as long as I don't have to wait up nights worrying about you." 

"I can promise you that I'll always come home every night to you. If this works out, of course." 

Bodie grinned. "Of course. And if you can remember another small thing." 

Deed returned Bodie's grin with one of his own. "Which is...?" 

"I was always the top man in our partnership." 

"You've got that all wrong, mate. I was always the top man." Deed paused. "Wait a second. Do you mean in or out of bed?" 

"Either way, mate. You were definitely the bottom man in our little duet." 

"You are indeed forgetful in your old age," Deed said indignantly. 

"Old? I'll show you old!" Bodie made his move. 

Deed was thrilled at Bodie's demonstration. Even if they were both old, they still had it. And, after many years, they also had each other once again. If things worked out, of course. 

Never "The End"

\----------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of stories wherein Doyle, in whatever role he's playing, and Bodie always get together.


End file.
